Half Dragon
by Cay Reet
Summary: It's just a little story of what might happen to Draco Malfoy if he refuses the Dark Mark... It's AU and slash, using Draco and a character I created myself. First English entry, be warned!


Half Dragon

by Cay Reet

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any character except for Ryu – wish I were…

**Rating:** Somewhere between PG-13 and R, I'm not sure.

**Pairing:** Draco / other (slash!)

**Warning:**_This story contains slash and some torture (just one scene and short). If you're not into that or too young, just stay away from it. I will happily and laughingly delete any flames on that matter since you have been warned!_

**The story is AU**.

Oh, since English isn't my native language, I probably made some mistakes – especially when it comes to commas. Just ignore them … please?

* * *

Draco just wished for it to be over. It didn't matter whether he was going to die or going to live, just as long as the pain stopped. His throat was sore, he couldn't scream anymore. He wimpered and moaned, enduring the torture almost in silence. He didn't care if he looked pathetic, having torn most of his clothes during the first spasms of pain. He didn't care what his father would think of him. As long as it stopped, he was ready to do anything they asked from him. But instead of the release he longed for, he got another dose of pain, the curse was repeated again and again until he finally lost his consciousness. 

From the shadows he watched the scene in silence. It wasn't as if he particularly enjoyed it, he wasn't a sadist, much to his father's disgust. He didn't have anything against torturing people for a reason – to extract information or to break them and turn them. But just inflicting pain to see the victim suffer wasn't to his liking. And in this case it seemed to be a waste as well.

His eyes traced the almost naked body on the floor, taking in the lithe, but well shaped build. Even writhering in pain it looked very promising. He liked the platinum blond hair and the pale skin, so much unlike his own black hair and everlasting tan.

Finally the victims movements ceased. He checked and was relieved when he felt that there was still life in that body. His father on the other hand didn't seem satisfied.

"Disgusting," he hissed, staring down at the boy. "He isn't even worth the magic necessary to dispose of him."

"If you don't want to spare that magic, father," the silent watcher said calmly, "why don't you give him to me? I'm quite bored and he would make a good toy."

"At least you don't seem to shy away from watching torture."

"Why should I? Torture has it's uses. I just don't see the point in inflicting it without any reasons."

"Like in this case?"

"You wanted to punish him for his disobedience," the watcher countered. "That is understandable. But it really would be a waste to kill him."

"If you think so…"

"I do, really."

"Go on, take him. I don't have any interests in him and I don't want him to go free. If he's your liking, do with him whatever you want."

That was something he had not expected at the beginning. His grandparents at home had been devastated upon learning that he was gay. He had expected his father to be even more angry about that, but since the Dark Lord wanted to live forever he didn't need to think about the future of his bloodline.

He nodded and silently bowed deep before his father, showing his submission. Then he held out one hand and summoned up his powers. Having learned the use of magic in Japan, he was more than able to control it without a wand. While the unconscious body slowly took off the floor, some of the Death Eaters gasped aloud. They obviously had never seen anyone do that before – amateurs.

He floated his new plaything out of the hall and along the corridors into his own suite of rooms. Placing the boy onto the bed, he got rid of the few remainders of clothing and covered him instead with his bedsheets. Then he watched the sleeper with great interest. The mask of pain on the pretty face was slowly dissolving. The breath was softer and deeper as well. In a few hours he would awake, the torture of this evening just a fading memory. Not that he would ever forget it – no one could forget having the Cruciatus-curse placed on them again and again for half an hour straight. It was enough to break a soul, but in this case hadn't, he already knew that. He just wondered how it would go. Would he have to force this beautiful boy into his new role or was he lucky? Quite a number of wizards were either gay or bisexual. He really would like not to have to use his powers to get what he wanted. Love – even if it was just the physical kind – was so much sweeter when given freely. And this seemed to be something his father could not grasp. He just could see the power his son wielded – far greater than that of any other wizard he knew, exept himself perhaps – and thought that there was no reason even to ask for something with abilities like those.

Draco found himself surprised – pleasantly so – when he awoke. He had half expected not to wake up again or to wake up in a dark, cold cell. Instead he was lying on a comfortable bed, between silken sheets by the feel of it. Savouring the wonderful feeling against his bare skin, he just lay there, eyes closed, breathing slowly. When he finally opened his eyes he looked at a grey stone ceiling that was lighted up by the sun. He sat up and looked around in utter astonishment. The walls were covered with exotic looking pictures painted on silk and bamboo scrolls. There were a lot of dragons among them, most of them deep red, snaking through the air or the water, seemingly playing. Some were even carrying human beings and didn't seem to be bothered by it. Other pictures showed landscapes, done carefully in fine ink lines, mere shadows that invited the onlooker to enter the scene and dream up the kind of surrounding he liked best. He was situated on a large bed in the center of the room, covered in deep green sheets and pillows.

A rich scent hovered through the room, it reminded Draco of the few times he had spent in various greenhouses when visiting friends with his mother. _Yasmine_, he thought surprised, _why the hell does it smell of yasmine in here?_ And where, to stay with that thought, was _here_ exactly? He had lost consciousness in hell and seemed to have awoken in heaven. How had he gotten there?

Almost oblivious to his own actions, he climed out of the bed and walked towards the only door he could seen. On one hand he was afraid that he might break the spell which had given him this vision and end up in a cell, but on the other hand he knew he couldn't lie there forever, he needed to face reality some time.

The next room looked almost like the bedroom. It was obviously there for living and studying, holding a great many books, comfortable chairs, a low table and a desk.

"Well", a soft voice pulled him out of his reverie, "it seems as if you have finally awoken. You slept for more than a day, you know."

Draco immediately liked that voice. It was soft and low, melodious and friendly. There was an accent he couldn't recognize, but he knew one thing for sure: The owner of that voice didn't want any harm to come to him. Turning around in order to find it, he suddenly found himself facing another person. While Draco would have been the first to admit that he was still a boy with his seventeen years, this person most certainly was a man. He still seemed to be young, but he had an air of power and self-assurance that teenagers simply did not have. Draco only noticed the strange eyes after a few seconds. The were golden and the pupils seemed to stare at him like a serpent's. They seemed to drill through his body to the very core of his heart. The face itself on the other hand was breathtakingly beautiful with a slight tan, full lips, a small nose and an almond shape of those almost scary eyes. And there was a long veil of jetblack hair, reaching down to his knees.

"Who are you?" Draco wispered.

"My name is Ryu and although I probably don't look like it, I'm your Dark Lord's son."

"Why am I here?" He still could not believe what he'd just heard. This utterly beautiful being related in any way to the scary, reptilian Dark Lord his father served?

"My father didn't want to spare the magic to kill you and so he gave you to me as a plaything."

Draco's heart missed a beat. One of the things his father loathed most about him was the fact that he went after boys, not the least interested in any of the nice, pure-blooded girls his parents more or less discreetly shoved his way. He was supposed to continue the proud Malfoy bloodline and yet he didn't want to. The thought alone that this man _wanted_ him made him shiver slightly.

"Now," that wonderful voice stopped him from dreaming, "am I allowed to ask a few questions myself?" Draco just nodded. "What's your name?"

_Whatever you wish it to be_, the boy thought, but answered: "Draco."

"'Draco' is the Latin word for 'dragon' if I'm not mistaken."

"Dragon or snake," Draco added, blushing slightly. He had heard more than one mischievous remark about his name. Surely, 'dragon' was something he liked being called, but 'snake' didn't make him feel good. He might be a Slytherin – though he probably wouldn't return to school –, but he didn't like to be compared to a creature that always crawled on it's stomach.

"Well, that's interesting."

"Why?" Draco asked shyly.

"Because," his new 'owner' answered with a smirk, "in Japanese the word for 'dragon' is 'ryu', my name."

"Really?"

"Yes. But now back to the questioning. Why was my father so angry about you? He surely would not have tortured the son of one of his most favoured Death Eaters for nothing."

"I-I refused to become a Death Eater myself," the boy wispered softly. Even thinking about the torture he'd been through made him feel a shadow of the pain again.

Soft fingers slid under his chin, pulling his face upward. Again his eyes met those golden ones. But despite the fear that he might go through another torture now that he had admitted his sin, he found himself entranced by the look. The longer he watched them, the more beautiful they became. And the touch of the fingers, feathery light, felt indescribeably good.

"Don't be afraid, my little dragon," that wonderful voice reassured him. "I do not blame you for a decision like that. You are mine now, he will not touch you again, I promise."

Draco found himself smiling at those words. He trusted that man completely. Suddenly, looking at that face, while the other one spoke, he realized that there were two longer, sharply pointed fangs in his mouth.

"What are those? Are you a vampire?" he found himself asking before thinking about it.

"No. They are like a serpent's fangs."

"Even poisonous?"

"In a way. I am able to control what my poison does to a victim. I can make it inflict pain, put someone to sleep, kill him or make him feel extasy beyond description."

"Really?"

"Do you want prove?"

"N-not for the pain…" Draco wispered fearfully.

"I would never hurt you, little dragon."

Softly Draco was pulled closer, the fingers on his shoulders felt so good. Readily he cocked his head, making it easier for the man to actually bite him. The fangs hardly grazed his skin, there was no real bite, but fire shot through his body. Involutarily he grabbed the dark robes of the other one, moaning loudly. Strong arms encompassed him, held him tightly. He had never before felt like that, in utter extasy his eyes closed and his mouth opened as he panted hastily.

"More, please," he gasped pleadingly.

Without an answer he was picked up as if he weighted nothing. The man carried him back into the bedroom, placed him carefully on the bed and shedded his own robe. The body underneath it seemed perfect to Draco. It was lean build, but strong. The muscles weren't bulky, but well defined. Smooth skin touched his as his new master joined him on the bed, pulling him closer, kissing him. A surprisingly long tongue found it's way into his mouth, giving him more pleasure than he would ever have hoped to gain from a mere kiss. More than willingly he gave himself over to those skilled hands, to that knowing mouth.

In utter fascination Ryu watched as his new boytoy reacted to his bite. Normally such a small amount of his poison would not cause this much of a reaction. But it seemed as if Draco was more susceptible to the poison than other beings. That meant two things. First of all, Draco had to be utterly gay – hence the strong reaction –, and second, he was willing. So there was no reason for him to hold back any longer. He could take posession of the boy without reservation. Carrying him back to the bedroom, he joined Draco on the bed, kissing him teasingly, making good use of his long, agile tongue. And his plaything fell for it immediately. Slowly he began to explore the lithe body, taking measures with both his hands and his tongue.

"You're already experienced, my little dragon," he wispered after a few minutes.

"There were a few flings," the boy admitted.

"There won't be any flings in the future."

Silver eyes looked deeply into his, then Draco nodded. There were no words afterwards, just body language. Ryu found himself enjoying being with the boy far more than he had enjoyed being with anyone before. They seemed to fit each other perfectly, fusing into one, carried through the waves of extasy and lust together. When they had finally depleted themselves thoroughly, they lay on the bed as close as possible, happy with just being together, with just feeling each other. Draco, still slightly weakened by the torture he had been through, went to sleep first, giving Ryu the chance to watch him sleeping, to feel the soft breath of his new lover against his skin.

Over the next days Draco became more acquainted with his new position in life. Ryu spent most of his time studying, despite the fact that he already commanded powers far beyond anything Draco had known before. Nevertheless he had enough spare time for other things, things which Draco enjoyed very much. Ever since that first time he found himself longing for it after only a couple of hours. But he also enjoyed himself a lot just sitting beside Ryu and listening to tales about Japan or watching him totally immersed in his books.

So he learned that Ryu was indeed the Dark Lord's son. What he found even harder to believe was the fact that Ryu's mother had died at his birth – and known it beforehand.

"But why did she have you then?" he asked incredulously.

"That is a long story, little dragon."

Draco just loved this pet name. He was curled against his master in front of a burning fire, they were stretched out on a thick, comfortable carpet. Encompassed by those strong arms and resting against the warm body, he felt completely safe and at ease.

"Tell me," he begged therefor. Could there be something better than hearing this wonderful voice telling him a story?

"If you insist." A slender hand stroked his hair and he purred like a kitten at the feeling. "My mother came from a very old family of wizards and witches. They were renown for their ability to speak to the dragons. You must realize, my sweet, that in the Asian culture dragons are not seen as demons or monsters. They are seen as wise and powerful creatures who might offer help if asked the right way. One day, while she was travelling through Europe to study western magic, she met my father, a man who looked more like a snake than like a human. Dark and Light Magic are not known in Asia, for us the reason is important, not the kind of spell. She met a powerful wizard with the ability to talk to snakes, with power and influence. He was – she knew – not completely human anymore. There was a very thin line of dragon blood, exactly what her family would need to strengthen it's own powers again. So she offered herself to him and he took the offer, because she was a powerful and beautiful woman who would submit to him completely. The moment she knew she was pregnant though, she left him, returning to Japan. She knew she had become pregnant with a special child and would have to buy his life with hers. My grandparents were happy, their hope was finally fullfilling itself."

"What hope?" Draco could not stop himself asking.

"The hope of finally getting a dragon-child. Because that is what I am. I was not changed magically like my father, I have been born that way. I'm halfways between a human and a dragon. My mother died as I was born, as I just told you. My grandparents rised me, teaching me all they knew or could find teachers for. They knew I would learn a lot faster than a normal human. But I had to be kept apart from other children because my powers were not under complete control. It took the best part of my adolescence before I could steer my hypnotic gaze or my poison. And I only learned to master my transformation two years ago, shortly before I got a message from my father, inviting me to join him here.

"I had a lot of fights with my family before I left. I only lust after men and I was supposed to have children in order to carry on the dragon bloodline. I'm not going to do that because I know they would never be happy. My grandparents, especially my grandfather, would not accept it. He told me in no uncertain words that I would stop being a member of the family if I didn't obey his orders about this thing. I was not supposed to be with any more men. I was supposed to find and marry a suitable girl, a witch with power but raised the right way – to be obedient and ready to sacrifice herself like my mother. I didn't want to bring a child into the world that would have to grow up as lonely as I had."

"But you are not lonely anymore!" Draco protested rather vehemently. The stroking was restarted and soon he was purring again.

"No, I'm not lonely anymore, thanks to you, my little dragon. My father wants to live forever, he doesn't need me to continue the line. I was so surprised when I found out. I can't say we're thinking the same way, but I can live with the way he thinks and acts."

"Even with his sadism?"

"I don't like it at all, little dragon," Ryu admitted freely, "but I understand that it is a part of his nature. I cannot change it and it is not my mission to do that. I will go with it as far as I can, though our paths will probably divide some day."

Draco closed his eyes in utter bliss. Although he felt sorry for Ryu's mother and Ryu's past, he was happy that they had met, that Ryu had rescued him. He didn't miss home, his parents, school or anything else, as long as he was allowed to stay besides this man. Every second Ryu devoted to him was so very precious to him.

"I love you," he wispered, voicing for the first time his true feelings.

"I love you."

Those simple words spoken sleepily by Draco against his chest had an enormous impact on Ryu. He had never heard them uttered before, not by his mother whose voice he had never heard, not by his father or his grandparents, not by any of his innumberable lovers. No one had ever told him about love. And he felt that this were the boy's true feelings.

"I love you too, little dragon, more than my own life."

He meant that with all his soul. He wasn't just taken by Draco's beautiful body anymore. That might have been the first thing he had noticed that day, but it had quickly been replaced by another feeling entirely. He still lusted after Draco's body – and being the way he was, he always would –, but he was just as happy to just lie there as he did now, holding the boy near, talking to him or just listening to him while he spoke of his own past.


End file.
